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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26623945">you'll be the love of my life when i was young</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/vegetativestate/pseuds/vegetativestate'>vegetativestate</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Ultimate Spider-Man (Cartoon 2012)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Soulmates</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 06:41:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,454</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26623945</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/vegetativestate/pseuds/vegetativestate</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A fic in which soulmates can't lie to each other when they’re sixteen, and well...it's Peter's sixteenth birthday.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harry Osborn/Mary Jane Watson, Sam Alexander/Peter Parker</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>122</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>you'll be the love of my life when i was young</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Ayo fam! Just a little spideynova scrap that i scraped together in a couple of days while blasting Hamilton in the living room - I hope y'all enjoy it! :3</p><p>Title from 21 by Gracie Abrams</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I should mention that I am absolutely, 1000% broke, and that is why my birthday present 1000% sucks. Just don’t go whining to Uncle Nick when you open it.” Sam retorts from around the mouth of his beer bottle. </p><p>This earns him a sharp elbow from Ava, who glares, eyes fiery, and he jumps back. Teasing Pete may be one of his favourite pastimes, but he’d also like his insides very much inside him and not on the painful end of Ava’s claws. </p><p>“I also baked you a cake.” He grumbles, eyeing the Tiger peevishly and spreading his hands out like he’s framing a headline, because he might be a broke asshole of a friend but he doesn’t forget birthdays. At least, not Peter’s.</p><p>Never Peter’s. </p><p></p><div>
  <p>“Aw shucks, sunshine. Glad to know you do care.” The webhead grins, before draping his unfairly lanky arms around the two. “Come on, sit. MJ insists its present opening time.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Because <em>someone</em> remembered.” She sing-songs, and throws a wolfish grin at Sam before handing Parker a neatly wrapped present, complete with a pretentiously perfect bow. “And plus, its your sixteenth. You know what that means.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Soulmates.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>When MJ turned sixteen, every lie she told stuck in her throat when she looked at Harry. Soulmates couldn’t lie to each other, not when they’re sixteen, and when nothing but truth slipped from her mouth, her face had flushed as red as her hair, uttering a soft “oh” before she gaped at Osborn soundlessly. Its not often Mary Jane is reduced to monosyllables, but when she is…</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Parker had shrieked, meeting Sam’s eyes briefly before launching on top his two best friends. “I knew it!” He gloated, slapping Harry’s shoulder and looping his arms with MJ’s. And Sam had laughed with them, ignoring the tight mix of emotions in his stomach as their group of friends gasped and screamed around the newly bonded soulmates.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Sam had turned sixteen two months later. He wasn’t all too concerned with finding his soulmate, not now, because it wasn’t like he was planning to spend the rest of his life holed up in New York City anyways. Not when there was a whole galaxy out there to be explored, a father to find, intergalactic super villains to fight, and endless adventures to brag about to the team.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Danny fondly wraps an arm around his shoulders as the group arrange themselves in their usual birthday circle, furniture roughly strewn to the edges of the living room as they present their gifts to Parker, who unfailingly beams happily at each one. Sam blinks, catching himself as his eyes linger a moment too long on him. He’s trying not to stare, but it's hard when Pete is smiling brighter than the sun, blue eyes sparkling with unobstructed delight as he demurely picks away at the sticky tape tethering the wrapping paper to carefully unravel each present. And though his heart clenches, his eyes can’t help the impulse to fixate themselves upon him, every soaring smile pooling warmth deep in his stomach. It really was stupid, this aggravating high-school crush that had given way to something more. A mix of emotions he couldn’t quite explain, that now, despite the years of keeping them locked up far, far away, were ready to bubble forth at any moment, spilling out until there was no way to stop them. Peter’s laughing again, and Sam can’t help the lazy smile that crawls across his lips as he delicately removes a flower crown from the wrapping. “MJ!” He hiccups between fits of laughter and the two shake in mirth as they hysterically trade their inside jokes.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>His heart almost shudders to a stop when Peter actually puts it on.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“How do I look?” He asks, jauntily turning a full circle, and Sam can’t stop the word “beautiful” from tumbling out his stupidly big mouth. Peter stalls for a second, glancing at him in surprise. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Oh. Well, thanks Buckets.” He smiles and sits back down, resuming his animated talk with MJ, his hands moving vivaciously as he chatters away.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Sam furrows his eyebrows, blinking a bit before shrugging. There wasn’t much between his brain and his mouth anyways, and it wasn’t uncommon for him to say things without thinking. They all knew that. But Sam’s mouth was dry as he tears his gaze away from the crown on top of Peter’s head to glance around the circle, only to find Danny’s shit-eating smile trained right on him. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Fuck, had he caught him staring? <em>Did he know?</em></p>
</div><div>
  <p>He feels a real jolt of fear as Danny interrupts the casual chatter among their friends. “I think we should let Sam give his present now, don’t you?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Oh what a fucking <em>bitch</em>. That observant, all-knowing, smug son of a— </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Sam?” </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Sam snaps his attention back to Parker, his mouth opening and closing comically as he tunes back into his surrounding. Of course, Peter is laughing at him, blue eyes watching him intently as he oscillates between leaping across the room to strangle Danny and just giving Webhead his damn present.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“You look like an absolute dolt right now, Buckethead.” Peter says cheerfully, and Sam rolls his eyes.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“You always look like a—“ Sam chokes on his words and he coughs, covering his mouth.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>A dolt. You always look like a dolt.</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>He tries again. “You always look like a—“</p>
</div><div>
  <p>His voice is scratchy is it dies in his throat and he realises, he can’t say it. He can’t fucking say it because it isn't true. Because Parker doesn’t look like a dolt, he looks beautiful, with soft curls of brown hair permanently mussed and framing the length of his face, his distractingly pretty mouth spread into a small smile. Sam gazes up at Peter, an expression of utter horror carved into his face.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>The absolute idiot is still staring at him, his face wrinkled in an obliviously bewildered visage even as their friends trade knowing smiles, an uncomfortably smug mask adorning Danny’s face. Who knew the friendly hippie of the group could be so downright depraved?</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Um…” Sam mumbles, lowering his eyes and desperately battling the heat he feels pooling around his neck. He holds out the present without meeting Peter’s perplexed gaze, his back and arm rigid as he fights off nausea. Soulmates. Which, is a pretty fucked up thing in itself when you really think about it. But even so, the universe could’ve been so kind as to give him a soulmate that would actually return his affections, because Sam could not think of a person more straight than Peter. Peter, who gently removed Sam’s head on his legs when he splayed himself across the couch dramatically whilst playing video games at May’s house. Peter, who stiffened when Sam played with his hair, offering him a tight-lipped I-really-want-you-to-stop-but-I’m-too-polite-to-tell-you smile. Peter, who dated MJ, and Gwen Stacy, who were both, certainly, undeniably not males. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Parker takes the present with a sweetly confused grin.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Just so you know, I also made a cake. You know…just in case you hate my present.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Sam feels his cheeks heat, embarrassment bleeding out of him as he rubs the back of his neck uncertainly.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Pete pauses his unwrapping of the present to throws him a propitious look before resuming his pretentious sticky tape picking. Sam watches on, oddly anxious for his reaction to the— </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Label-maker.” Peter announces, and laughs, swinging around wildly to face him. “Sam, this is great. My Christmas present for Coulson this year is completely sorted!”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Sam gasps in mock offence, drawing a hand to his chest. “You would give away the gift I so thoughtfully picked out?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Sam, I love you but yes.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Peter’s eyes shutter a bit and confusion tugs at his lips. He blinks, before shaking his head and grinning back at Sam, who smiles despite the muscle feathering in his jaw.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Oblivious bastard. Well, perhaps it would better off this way; Sam shoving away this knowledge of their bond deep inside him with everything else he felt for Peter, and leaving the poor insect (or as Pete keeps insisting, arachnid) to live in blissful ignorance. It was a great plan. The only plan really, but a good one nonetheless. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Count on Danny Rand to ruin the plan.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He gives Sam an innocent smile before tilting his head and leaning forward.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“So, tell me Peter.” He says, his voice sage as always as he enraptures the group’s attention. “Who do you think your soulmate will be?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Sam sucks in a breath and glares across the circle at him. To anyone else, Danny may be the warm and reliable friend spewing endless streams of fortune cookie wisdom and in possession of a crazy amount of really solid, really firm abs (no he’s not jealous at all), but Sam isn’t fooled by his amiable smile and sweet voice. What he is, is the bane of Sam’s existence and right now, he’s being absolutely vile. Sam ruminates all the ways he could outmanoeuvre Danny and his glowing fists, and concludes that if he tries really, really hard he might just be able to throw in a few pain-inflicting punches before Danny well and truly kicks his ass into the Hudson. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Oh, I don’t really know.” Peter says, shrugging. “Maybe Gwen? Could help me attempt to save a sinking ship.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Right. Of course. Gwen Stacy. The ex. Sam keeps his eyes locked on Peter as he nods with a strained smile, ignoring the worried and pitying glances the team throws in his direction. Seriously, was he really that transparent?</p>
</div><div>
  <p>A stiff silence envelops the room. Sam stands abruptly, offering a tight-lipped grin as he says, “I’ll go get the cake.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Wait, I’ll come with you!”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Oh no. Oh no no no. Peter stands with a cheerful smile and Sam shakes his head. “No, that’s okay, I can manage.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"But I want too, Laser-brains. I wanna see before anyone else!”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Stop being such a fucking child Parker. Sit your ass down before I make you.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Ugh. You really are the wor—“</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Peter grimaces and coughs. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Fuck. Sam’s stomach plummets.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Clearing his throat, Parker tries again. Shit shit banana split, Sam needs to get out of here before something happens. He does not want to be anywhere near Parker when the amusement leaves his eyes, and whatever the hell they were to each other is lost. Sweat tracks a lazy path down his temple as he shoves Peter aside. He’ll barricade himself in the bathroom, and maybe consider banging his head on the wall until it cracks. Was there a window? He could hardly remember, it’s been a fair amount of time since he had been at Parker’s house. Maybe he could climb out and—</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Peter latches onto his wrist and Sam stills.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>There goes that plan.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Sam.” </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Sam focuses on the spot behind Peter’s head with intense interest, fighting the urge to cover his face with his hands and sink to the ground in humiliation.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Parker,” he says, trying for his usual mocking tone, but the streak of desperation pitches it embarrassingly high. He ducks his head, his heart crumpling in his chest as he sneaks a glance at Peter, who stares at him, shock and disbelief marring his features. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>How. Fucking. Embarrassing.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Okay. Sam takes a deep breath, searching his mind for some semblance of confidence. He’s got this. After all, he’s not a SHIELD trainee anymore. He’s Nova, and he’s the best at what he does.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Even if his best was slightly detrimental at times.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He sets his jaw. Fucking hell.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“It’s not what you think—“ he blurts out at the same time Peter says, “Holy shit it’s you.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Panicked, Sam shakes his head. “I don’t…I don’t know what you’re—“</p>
</div><div>
  <p>But of course his fucking voice box betrays him again and he’s left frantically stringing together random words in hopes of forming a cohesive sentence.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He can’t take his eyes off Peter, and he’s trembling because the universe truly had a fucked up sense of humour, bonding him with this beautiful, stupid boy with webs for brains and a heart for someone else. He doesn’t want to cry, but it hurt more than he thought it would. Because it was just so simple to him.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Tears prickling the back of his eyes, Sam bites his lips, a frantic ringing echoing in his ears as he wrenches his arm from Peter’s grip. Not today. He couldn’t take Parker’s quiet rejection today for what it was because it couldn’t change the fact that he’s been in love with him for so long that he's forgotten how to love anyone else.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Peter’s hand moves to his arm and Sam's restless mind, muddled with alcohol and so much more, drifts.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Without thinking, Sam moves. It truly has been too long, too many years of repressed feelings and yes, maybe he is a little drunk, but brushing his lips against Peter’s feels so natural. Like their tilted world straightening. Like everything he’s ever wanted.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He pulls back just as quickly, averting his gaze as he flushes, taking a step back. “I’m sorry.” he mumbles, touching a cooling palm to his cheek. He turns to leave.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Wait.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Sam stills, panic spiking hot under his skin and closes his eyes.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Please don’t go.” Peter says faintly, and Sam blinks a couple of times before turning slowly on the spot. Red burned stark against Peter's pale cheeks and he shoves his hands into his pockets. “I…I didn’t not like that.” The words fell from his mouth rapidly, one mounting the other in a messy tumble, slipping like silk over skin.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Sam’s lips part and he blushes furiously, the heat climbing up his neck uncomfortably quickly. He must be dreaming the kind of dream that delivers everything he could ever want in the liminal space between the figments of his mind and reality, painting his heart and mind with content before slipping from his grasp like oil through water. Voice raw and wrecked with disbelief, he manages a choked, “Really?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Really.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Oh.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>And then Pete is stepping in for another kiss, and Sam rises half way to meet him, faintly registering MJ's squeals of delight as Ava moans, “Can you two, and I cannot stress this enough, please get a room?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Peter gasps a little as he takes a step back, a dazed look on his adoring features. Sam stands frozen to the spot, a sweetly hesitant grin tacked to his face as heat pools in his cheeks and stomach. Lips still tingling from the kiss, he pretends not to notice each of his friends reluctantly opening their wallets to hand Danny a five-dollar bill for having correctly foretelling exactly how the night would transpire.</p>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments would really be appreciated. Come be my friend <a href="https://www.instagram.com/stxrkqvier">@stxrkqvier</a> on instagram! :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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